


Letters to Satan

by EP1



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28396626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EP1/pseuds/EP1
Summary: Did you ever wonder what happened to letters that were accidentally addressed Dear Satan instead of Dear Santa?
Comments: 10
Kudos: 90





	Letters to Satan

Satan had retreated to the library for the evening, away from the teasing of his brothers. The fireplace provided both illumination and accompaniment for his reading. Though he was loath to admit it, Satan was finding it hard to focus on the book in his hand. He was distracted, aggravated, and he wished this damn season would be over already. He glanced down at the basket at his feet filled with handwritten letters and repressed a snarl. 

With his free hand, he picked up a letter, barely legibly addressed to him. It was not the child’s fault. Learning to read and write was no small challenge. He did not blame the children for their poor spelling, or lack of control in their writing. It was not them that caused his mood to be so foul. No, they were as innocent as the requests sealed in the envelopes. No, his anger was reserved for others.

He tossed the envelope into the fire and watched it burn, hearing the echoes of his brother’s teasing as the paper turned to ash.

_ “Lookie here Satan, more mail! Ya gonna go to a mall and let ‘em sit on your lap, too?” _

_ “How cute! Old school friend requests! Gonna play Candy Land with them?” _

_ “Sae! Look at how popular you are! Too bad you have to wait for them all to grow up to have real fun.” _

The twins usually kept their mouths shut, Belphie being too lazy to bother, especially since it had to do with humans, and Beel too kind. Lucifer didn’t need to say anything at all to rub salt in the wound. The smug set of his lips and the devious twinkle in his eyes as he calmly handed him the stack of envelopes communicated his glee all too clearly. 

Year after year, beginning when the mortal calendar hit the month of November the letters trickled in. Each day bringing a new round of teasing until finally the holiday passed for another year.

Satan took a sip of the brandy that was sitting on the table beside him. His siblings were not deserving of the full measure of his ire though. There was a different creature that had earned that honor. He was the one these letters had been meant for. Satan despised him because each of these envelopes had a line through the address, and bore the script “does not live at this address”.

Yes, every letter collected in the basket at Satan’s feet had arrived at their correct destination. It had been obvious who they were meant for, and yet the bastard in red turned them away, sending them his direction. If Satan ever had the opportunity to meet Santa, words would not be how he expressed his displeasure. Instead of doing his job, Mr. Kringle rejected these letters, and if the man they were meant for didn’t give a shit about them, why should Satan?

Setting the glass down once more, Satan reached down to get another letter to feed the fire. As he was about to flick the envelope into the flames he noticed something unusual. The address was correct, well at least as correct as a mortal was likely to get it, the word Hell neatly printed underneath his name. 

Curious, Satan closed his book and set it on the table, and gave the envelope his full attention. With a swipe of a sharp nail he opened the envelope and pulled the message free.

_ Dear Satan, _

_ I’m writing to you cause I ask for the same thing I ask for every year and Santa never helps me.  _

_ I need you to help me with a bully. His name is Erik and he’s a total asshole. He stole my money, broke my glasses and he threatens me everyday.  _

_ I’m scared. Nobody believes me. They think he’s a total angel. But, it makes me want to puke every time I leave my house. _

_ Satan, can you help me? Can you make him stop? Can you scare him? Hurt him? Make him never come back? _

_ I’ll give you anything. _

_ Please,  _

_ David _

Satan stared at the letter in his hand for a moment. It really was for him. This letter was not meant for the fat man with the sleigh. The boy was not asking for some trivial trinket that would be forgotten before the week was out. No, David was asking for something Satan could provide. Wrath and vengeance.

Satan rose from his seat, the letter still held with care in his fingers. That he would answer was not in question, David had sought his help. The question was how would he reply?

He pondered the question, pacing back and forth before the fire. After he crossed before the hearth a half dozen times, Satan realized he needed more information to make his decision. He tore the letter carefully, and tossed the scrap of paper bearing the sender’s name into the blaze. He whispered an incantation and the fire obeyed showing him scenes from the child’s life. Once he saw what he wanted to know, a single snap of his fingers made the images vanish. 

Satan then settled himself at the desk and pulled out the stationary and ink. 

_ Dear David, _

_ While I am indeed capable of rending the flesh from your enemy’s bones, or damaging his psyche to the extent that Erik would be rendered a gibbering idiot for the rest of his days, any action on my part would be of little use to you. Assuming I left him with intact eyeballs, he would still see you as weak, as prey, if you hid behind my protection.  _

_ But, I will not ignore your request for help, though you need to decide what form that aid will take. I will include two charms in this letter. One will allow you to terrorize your enemy, and the other to survive him. _

_ The brown charm summons spiders. Erik is deathly afraid of them. Hold the metal in your hand and picture them and they will arrive. You can have them swarm his lunch kit, his bed, his clothes. Though this method will make him fear you, beware of becoming what it is you hate. _

_ The white charm, that on the other hand, will dull the pain from his assaults and heal you. If you wish to bravely stand your ground, and look him in the eye, unafraid of him, this would be the one to use.  _

_ I will not defeat your foe, but I will give you the tools to do so. Only you can decide what kind of person you wish to be. _

_ Merry Christmas,  _

_ Satan  _

Satisfied with his words, Satan summoned a Little D to fetch the charms from his room. He returned to his seat in front of the fire, bringing with him wax and a seal to close the envelope. While he waited for the little demon to return, he sipped from the glass he’d left sitting on the table. Satan watched the fire flicker and dance, and felt a warmth inside that had nothing to do with the blaze in the hearth or the liquid in the glass.

The Little D returned and Satan quickly enclosed the charms and sealed the envelope with his personal sigil. A whispered spell and it was on the way to the child. It would be waiting on his bedside when David woke. 

Task accomplished, Satan picked up his book once more. The words on the page did not hold his attention however. He was distracted by the way he was feeling. Satan felt good. 

He had done something right. That child would no longer feel ignored. David’s plea was heard and his problem solved, though maybe not in the way that was intended. 

Satan’s eyes fell on the basket beside him and a frown tugged at the corner of his lips. These children, these children’s words would fall on deaf ears, through no fault of their own. With a soft growl he reached down and picked up another letter. No. Not this year. Though it was not him they sought, he would at least read their requests and if it was in his power grant them.

He carefully opened the letter in his hand.

_ Dear Satan, _

_ I hope you and Mrs Claus are well. I’ve been a good girl this year and the only thing I want is a kitten… _

Satan laughed. Oh, this was going to be fun...

**Author's Note:**

> If you ever got a present that you really wanted that no one in their right mind would have gotten you, perhaps you should have paid more attention to the tag...
> 
> Belated Merry Christmas to you all!


End file.
